Lust
by Kismet76
Summary: One shot, a story written for a prompt on the Swooping is Bad community on LiveJournal: The Seven Deadly Sins. Threesome F!Warden Avela Surana /Zevran/Alistair. Rated M for a reason.


_Maker! Again?_

Alistair couldn't believe his eyes. Or his ears, for that matter. They were… _at it_, again. Zevran, that lucky bastard, had taken Avela to a clearing not far away from camp, and Alistair had found them by accident while on guard duty.

He knew he had to look away but he found that he simply couldn't. He had been listening on them at night, _every night_, while they were in Avela's tent. He had been watching the shadows on the canvas, shameful and wanting, trying to sleep and failing at it, at least not until he brought himself to pleasure with his own hand.

He longed for her, yes, but he also longed for the intimacy that Avela and Zevran shared. To feel the skin of another under his hands, warm and firm, to thread his fingers into soft hair, to kiss lips that were pliant and yet demanding… He shook his head, unwillingly leaving his fantasy to return to reality.

His eyes fixed again on the forms in the clearing in front of him, outlined by the moonlight. He wasn't hiding, not exactly, and wasn't spying on them, no… He simply had to see what was rubbed in his face so often and unmercifully, what was actually denied to him, to see it clearly instead of in flickering shadows on canvas.

They were laughing softly, aware that they were just outside the camp. Apparently he was tickling her. Avela was trying to fend off his hands, and he was making fun of her poor attempts, finally grabbing her wrists and pushing her against a tree.

"I will make a great deal of money when I will sell this secret to the Chantry," Zevran said, smirking. "The best way to distract a powerful mage is by tickling her! Really, _amora_, you should do something about that. Where is your deadly magic?"

She actually giggled, squirming in his hold. "Ah… If I were in any real danger, my magic wouldn't desert me, I assure you." She kissed him then, lips parting to invite him in her mouth. They kissed for a minute, and Alistair was turning around to go away, when Zevran spoke again. "Our templar, though…"

Alistair froze on the spot. _What?_

"He never became a templar, you know that." Avela's voice was barely audible now.

Alistair felt a shiver going down his back. Had they seen him?

"Well, our non-templar, then…" Zevran conceded, bending slightly to kiss her neck. "I think he would find this information quite valuable."

Avela laughed again, a little louder. "Alistair is my friend, and he would never hurt me, so _yes_, he might be able to tickle me without risking death."

"Hm, I knew it. You would never unleash your spells upon him, yes? You are too soft-hearted. Besides," Zevran added, while his hands started undoing the laces of her mage robes, "I believe he would love to see the effect that tickling has on you. You are all flushed, _amora_, and squirming in the most delicious way. I believe this is the kind of reaction he would really like to provoke in you…"

"You are _evil_, Zev," she replied with a smirk of her own.

"Yes, and you love me for that," he answered nibbling her ear. She moaned in reaction, and he laughed softly before continuing. "What do you think he would do, if he knew?"

She whimpered, his hands having reached the swell of her breasts. "If he knew what?"

"But, that you _want_ him, of course."

Alistair's brain screeched to a halt. _Wait, what? Did he just say…_

"I don't know. He could despise me, or even hate me. I… broke up with him, as you remember."

"Yes, I do, _amora_. I also happen to remember that you did not want to hurt him, yes? Ending it with him while he had not revealed his feelings to you yet was an act of selflessness."

"Hmm, maybe. Or maybe I was selfish. At the time I believed he needed to find a good girl, someone who could fall in love with him completely. Now, with the Landsmeet coming, I think Eamon won't just _let him be_, and Alistair deserves better than some cold, calculating noblewoman who marries him because of his crown."

Alistair gasped, his stomach churning at the thought. He felt like a puppet, manoeuvred by the very people he loved. Arl Eamon, he could accept, but Avela… _But she's right, and you know it. If you became… king, _he thought, actually swallowing,_ she would never be allowed to stay at your side, not even if she wanted to._

"I almost feel sad for the poor guy," Zevran said. "He envies me quite a lot, if the way he watches us when he thinks we are not looking is any indication."

Alistair blushed furiously and almost turned to leave in shame for having been read so easily, but then he saw Zevran caressing the soft flesh of Avela's belly, making her shudder visibly in anticipation. Alistair could barely see the contour of her dark form in the shadows, but he found himself watching intently nonetheless, trying to see everything he could.

"I have come to think of him as a good friend," Zevran continued, "despite his obvious feelings for my woman. I would really hate to see him married to a total stranger." Alistair thought he heard a note of sincere concern in Zevran's voice.

"Zev, I know what you are aiming for, and I already told you what I think of it."

"But, _amora_…"

"You hope to _share_, don't you?" The mirth was evident in Avela's voice.

He raised his left hand to his chest, feigning hurt, even while his right one moved deftly between her legs. "You cannot believe this, _mia cara_. I would never, ever suggest anything like that!"

"Ha! Of course not." she said, laughing breathlessly and grasping his arm, leaning back against the tree.

"I only want what is best for the poor boy. Would you prefer he gave his virginal self over to a… what were your words? Ah, yes, a 'cold, calculating noblewoman'. I believe he would certainly prefer his first time to be with someone who cares about him, a friend, yes?"

She giggled, then whimpered softly, rolling her hips against Zevran's hand. Alistair thought he had never heard her giggling before tonight. He envied Zevran even more for this.

"And I bet you believe that two friends are better than one, isn't it?" Avela removed Zevran's hand and pushed him against the tree, then started kneeling in front of him, giving her back to Alistair. He watched avidly as a moonbeam hit her on her back, showing her round bottom.

"Well, in principle, yes. But it would not be necessary. I could restrict myself to watching over you. For safety's sake, of course."

"Of course," she said softly, amusement in her voice. Alistair had to take a step forward and to his side, as silently as he could, to try and see what she was doing now. She fell silent while Zevran leaned back against the tree, apparently caressing her black hair from above. The only sounds Alistair could hear now were those produced by Zevran, soft little moans he was certain he had never heard before from the elf. He took a couple more steps on his side and another one forward, _out of sheer curiosity, of course, _until he could see exactly what she was doing.

_Maker_.

She had taken Zevran's hardness in her mouth and was slowly sliding forward, then back, then she was licking the underside… It was completely different, being able to _see_, even in the scarce moonlight, instead of trying to figure it out through the walls of a tent…

Alistair felt a burning need in his stomach and lower, in his breeches. He reached down to ease the growing discomfort he was feeling, and whimpered softly at the touch of his own hand on the hard flesh under the fabric. His mind reeled and he closed his eyes, imagining it was _him_ in her hot mouth, _his hands_ in her soft, dark hair… He pulled at the bindings of his breeches, pulling out his hardness and stroking it firmly. _Avela's hands… her tongue…_ He felt flustered and hot, and had never felt so excited before in his entire life. Even the thought of Zevran watching Avela and him together… He felt a shudder sliding down his spine and was a moment away from coming in his hand, when another's hand touched his shoulder.

He gasped, shocked, and unconsciously took a step back, opening his eyes. Zevran was in front of him, stark naked and wearing a smug expression on his handsome face. "Here you are, my friend. We were talking about you."

Alistair looked over Zevran's shoulder and saw Avela watching him. He was horrified by the embarrassing situation in which he had been caught and was ready to flee, but a second glance showed him that Avela was wearing a sweet, fond smile on her face, and maybe just a hint of blush. Her eyes were dark and hypnotizing, though, and kept him root to the ground. She looked at him as one would look at a delicious morsel, _some_ _fine wedge of cheese…_

As someone who wanted him very much.

Alistair's head was spinning, and he almost didn't notice Zevran tugging him along towards her. She rose to her feet gracefully and went to him, opening her arms and smiling sweetly. He couldn't believe his eyes, once again.

_Maker, but she's beautiful._

She pulled him down to her, kissing him softly, her taste even sweeter than he remembered. He got lost in the kiss, in the feeling of her smooth, dark skin under his hands, and noticed Zevran peeling away his shirt from behind only when it was pulled over his face, interrupting the kiss for a moment.

Alistair touched Avela's breasts with a sort of reverence, revelling in the soft moan of pleasure she gave. He trembled slightly and pulled away from their kiss when she pushed down his breeches, reaching for his manhood and stroking the velvet skin with her hand. He gasped a warning, closing his eyes and holding on her shoulders for support.

"Let the poor man go, _amora_, else the fun be over too soon," Zevran whispered, amusement laced in his voice.

Alistair wondered briefly at how he wasn't disturbed by Zevran's presence. He even mentally thanked the elf for stopping Avela's wonderful hand. When he opened his eyes, he saw Avela and Zevran beside him, holding each other and kissing, both beautiful in the moonlight spilling from above. He suddenly felt clumsy and big, an intruder beside them, buy then they turned and opened their embrace to him, making him feel almost… _loved_.

Avela's lips found Alistair's mouth again, her hands caressing soothingly his neck and shoulders. From the corner of his eyes he saw Zevran moving to stand only a breath away from his back, watching them. He could feel the elf's warmth radiating through the thin layer of air that separated them; he sighed and leaned back slightly, wanting to _feel_ him, too, and Zevran gasped softly at unexpected contact.

Alistair smiled in between kisses, knowing he had taken the assassin by surprise, but was soon distracted by another pair of hands touching his sides. He shuddered, feeling that Avela and Zevran were guiding him to the ground with soft touches.

His head swam in haze of lust and he barely registered that he was pushed on his back, Avela straddling him and Zevran watching him from behind her. The assassin was kissing her neck and whispering words in Antivan in her ear, all the while watching Alistair as Avela lowered on his hardness.

_Maker, she's… it's…_

A moan escaped Alistair's lips as soon as he felt her tightness and warmth surrounding him. His throat felt constricted and he gasped for air, his breath coming shallow and fast. Avela stopped for a moment when she felt him seated completely inside her, reclining her head on her chest, then leaned onto him and kissed him again, trying to get him to calm down while she adjusted to his size.

When Alistair opened his eyes – when did I close them? – he saw Avela moving back a little and supporting herself with her hands on his chest while she started to rock back and forth. He was overwhelmed by the feeling of her all around him, the sight of her upon him incredible and glorious.

He saw another pair of hands moving on her ribcage and palming her breasts before sliding down to her belly. Alistair followed their motions with his eyes, completely enthralled, until they joined upon her center, right above the point where he was connected to her. He focused his senses on her then, beyond the beautiful display she was giving, and saw her closing her eyes in pleasure, pushing against Zevran's fingers and rotating her hips against his groin.

Alistair grabbed blindly at her thighs, meeting her thrusts, feeling his upcoming orgasm. The images swimming in his head and the reality of what was happening to him soon became too much. He couldn't restrain himself any longer, he simply had to _let go_. He surged upward so that he might clasp his arms around Avela and Zevran together, and with a powerful thrust he came, shouting in the crook of her neck.

After a moment he felt her pulling up and away from him, then he was pushed back to the ground and she laid on her belly upon him, raising her hips towards Zevran. Alistair felt the exact moment Zevran entered Avela, for her trembling body tensed suddenly and gave a sharp shudder. Zevran started a slow and steady rhythm, whispering in Antivan to both of them. "_Ah, miei bellissimi amanti… Mi senti, Alistair? Riesci a sentirmi mentre sono dentro di lei?_"

Neither of them could understand him, but the exotic words only added to the shared pleasure. Alistair touched Avela's sides and back, brushing from time to time Zevran's skin with his knuckles. The elf took one of his hands and pushed it under Avela's hips until it rested on her nub, then guided its motions in time with his thrusts.

Avela was moaning loudly now, and Alistair marvelled at the expression of pure pleasure that was displayed on her face. Her breath hitched, and when Zevran leaned upon her back, biting her neck, she wailed and shook, arching against him. Alistair felt a gush of warmth on his fingers, and slowly withdrew his hand from under her.

Alistair felt stunned. He closed his eyes and savoured the intimacy they were sharing, opening them only when he felt the weight of Zevran's and Avela's bodies shifting away from him. They lied on their sides, Zevran spooning behind Avela, both panting and exhausted.

Alistair turned toward the elven woman, kissing her softly on her lips. "Thank you," he said, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her graceful ear. She looked back at him with a sweet smile and kissed him back.

"Now, my friend, I think you should thank me properly, too," said Zevran from behind her, a touch of mirth in his voice.

Alistair laughed in response to the assassin's taunting. "Oh, Zev, I don't know. I'd be careful, if I were you. I might take you up on that."

Avela groaned, hitting lightly Alistair on his chest, and Zevran pulled himself up on an elbow to look at both of them, a large grin splitting his beautiful face. "See, _amora_? I _told_ you so. You should never have bet against me. Now, though," he added, patting a slender finger on his chin, "I wonder, what service I could require of you..."

A/N: Many thanks to Decantate for being a great beta! I always have some hard times writing in English, since I'm Italian…

If anyone's wondering, this is what Zev is saying to Alistair and Avela when speaking Antivan: "Ah, my beautiful lovers… Can you feel me Alistair? Can you feel me while I'm inside of her?"


End file.
